


(Your Doors Are) Wide Open

by pasdexcuses



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-01
Updated: 2012-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-04 16:18:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasdexcuses/pseuds/pasdexcuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark and Sean decide to find Eduardo a suggardaddy so they can get Facebook started. It inevitably blows up in Mark face when Eduardo, to everyone's surprise, likes the guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Your Doors Are) Wide Open

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [a prompt](http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/3654.html?thread=4095302#t4095302) on the  ****[tsn_kinkmeme](http://tsn-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/).Also, reposting fics like a boss!! HAHAHA
> 
> I can't believe I finally got around to cleaning this up! Man, it feels good.

**Disclaimer:** This work is based on the characters as portrayed in the movie The Social Network, not real people. And, obviously, I’m not making any money from this. 

 

**_(Your Doors Are) Wide Open_ **

 

“So, Wardo,” Sean starts.

 

All Eduardo can think of is how annoying that nickname sounds when _Sean_ uses it. Eduardo wants to tell Sean to stop it. He’s not Eduardo’s friend, and Eduardo isn’t drooling all over him like he’s best thing that has ever happened to him since the invention of RedBull. If anything, Sean could very well be the worst thing that has ever happened to Eduardo because ever since he came into the picture things have changed. And not for the better. Not where it really counts or matters. Not where Eduardo and Mark are concerned.

 

“We need to talk,” Mark quips, looking nervously from Sean to Eduardo.

 

And _that_ gets Eduardo’s attention.

 

“There’s this investor,” Sean starts to explain.

 

“James Coulom,” Mark interrupts again.

 

“Yes, James Coulom You know who that is, right?” Sean sounds excited, and Eduardo has a bad feeling about this whole thing already.

 

“Uh huh,” he says, trying to figure out just what has Sean done now.

 

And yes, Eduardo knows who this guy is. He invested in some websites, apparently has got a lot of money. They met with him just last week.

 

It’s Mark who speaks again, rushing because clearly there’s something they’re not telling Eduardo. Mark’s just trying to hide it under hurried sentences. “He really seems to be interested in Facebook, thinks it’ll grow a lot. And he wants to meet with—”

 

“ _You_ ,” Sean cuts in, smiling that charming Sean-grin that has no effect on Eduardo except maybe it makes him hate Sean more. “And you just have to be your usual, charming self.”

 

Now, this does not compute. He’s sure someone like James Coulom has their own advisors. And if he needs to know more about the site, Mark is always the better option. And _only_ Eduardo? He really does not like where this is headed.

 

“Interested in meeting with me? Because I’m CFO and he wants to talk money or because he wants something else?” Eduardo asks, carefully staring at Mark and avoiding Sean’s annoying face.

 

“Uh…” Mark tries forming a coherent sentence. 

 

It’s useless.

 

“He’s got his own financial advisors, Wardo,” Sean replies like that’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he isn’t implying he’s trying to whore Eduardo out so he can profit off this idea that isn’t even his. 

 

Eduardo really, really hates Sean.

 

“Don’t call me that.”  

 

“Hey, relax!” Sean says because even he can’t ignore the fact that Eduardo is more than a little pissed off by now. “It’s just a meeting. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

 

Yeah, like Sean really believes that.

 

“You seriously don’t, Wardo,” Mark starts, looking at him and perfectly serious. Oh, he’s thought this whole thing through. Great. Not only does he pointedly pretends Eduardo does not exist, he also plots behind his back to get him to do something Eduardo thinks is a, unethical and b, disgusting. “If he tries making a pass at you, we’ll just get rid of him.”

 

“I don’t think we should be that picky, Mark,” Sean suggests but his tone is all wrong for a threat. Like he thinks Mark won’t be able to see through his manipulative farce. 

 

However, Eduardo is delighted to see, this blows in Sean’s face when Mark raises his voice as he glares at Sean. “And I think this is my company so I get to choose who’s in it and who’s not.”

 

“Jesus, you’re weird,” Sean simply mutters under his breath.

 

Mark is still glaring at Sean. “No, I’m not. I’m simply stating the facts.”

 

Rolling his eyes, Sean turns back to Eduardo. “Fine. Listen, _Eduardo_ , he wants to meet you this Thursday for lunch.”

 

“So you’ve already decided that you’re whoring me out? I can’t believe this,” Eduardo exclaims, throwing his hands in the air with as much indignity as he can muster. 

 

“It isn’t like that!” Mark is saying all too quickly and Eduardo can see how this is all Sean’s doing. How Mark is not only trying to convince Eduardo but himself, too, that this isn’t about sex as much as it as about Facebook and what’s good for it. “He likes you more than he likes any of us so it’s really just a meeting where you get to put in a good word for your company. It’s really a win-win.”

 

“You’re whoring me out,” Eduardo points out icily. 

 

There really is no other way to put it. 

 

“So, Thursday?” Sean asks again.

 

“I… I can’t just drop everything to be with this guy. I have meetings and… stuff. I have a girlfriend.”

 

Because Eduardo does have Christy and he’s not a cheater. 

 

“We know, we know. But really, what’s an hour of your time? Two at the most. He’ll be paying so it won’t even cost you. Free lunch!”

 

Eduardo rolls is eyes at Sean’s pathetic attempt to convince him. “I’m not starving. I do not need free lunch.”

 

With that, Eduardo considers the conversation to be over. He storms out of the kitchen and starts rushing upstairs when Mark’s hand grabs him by his elbow.

 

“Do it for Facebook,” he says, eyes on Eduardo. “Do it for _our_ company.” Mark is biting down on his lip and his big blue eyes are staring at Eduardo like her really, really needs this. “Please.” 

 

It’s the please that does it. Because Eduardo can count in one hand the number of times Mark has actually said the word instead of just taking whatever it is that he needs. 

 

“O-okay,” Eduardo can hear himself say, hesitant because he knows what he’s getting into.

 

“Great. I’ll call him,” Sean yells from some corner as he takes out his phone.

 

But Eduardo isn’t really watching Sean anymore. He’s staring at Mark and the way his smile spreads across his face.

 

*

James Coulom is tall and tanned but not in an intimidating way like the Winklevosses. That’s probably because he’s only slightly more broad than Eduardo, which is to say, all in all, he’s really slim. Eduardo hadn’t noticed the week before when they first meet that James Coulom has black eyes. His black hair isn’t too short but not too long and it curls around the ends. Eduardo doesn’t know what to do with all this. 

 

“Eduardo!” James greets him once he spots Eduardo. “You should have let me send a car,” he adds pleasantly.

 

Eduardo is mortified. 

 

This is so about sex.

 

“Yeah, I, uh, like to drive.” 

 

Which is the first lie in what Eduardo suspects is going to be one long chain of half-truths and plain dishonesty.

 

“Oh, really? You didn’t strike me as the type when I met you. Anyway, have a seat.” James gestures to the chair in font of him and Eduardo is worried for a moment James might pull it out for him. 

 

He doesn’t. Instead, James seems pretty happy simply smiling at Eduardo in a way that isn’t creepy at all. Well, Eduardo is somewhat relieved. 

 

“So, you’re majoring in Economics, right?”

 

“Yeah. Harvard.”

 

“Prestigious Ivy League!” James exclaims. “Wouldn’t think any less of you. And you’re going back after the summer?”

 

“Yes, back to Senior Year.” Eduardo tries to sound excited.

 

If James notices anything about Eduardo’s tone, he doesn’t say. What he does look is seriously surprised. 

 

“Wow, you guys are really young.”

 

Eduardo wonders if this is the right moment to ask James age. It’s inappropriate, he assumes. It’s always going to be inappropriate. Yet, Eduardo needs to know. Like now. So he can, you know, have a total freak out. 

 

“You want to know how old I am?” he asks and Eduardo can only blush in response. “God, you’re so easy to read, Mr. Saverin! I’m twenty-eight, by the way.”

 

“Oh.”

 

That’s… Actually, that’s not so bad. For a guy who’s allegedly filthy rich he isn’t _that_ old. Not that he looks old. If Eduardo didn’t know who he was, he’d probably say he was around his mid-twenties. 

 

“Well, now that that awkward conversation is out of the way, why don’t we order something so we’ll have the excuse of good food for all the embarrassing questions to come?” James asks, picking up the menu.

 

James Coulom is, Eduardo decides, absurdly pleasant.  

 

They end up talking a lot about Facebook and just how huge it’s going to be. They talk about economics and Harvard and suits and Eduardo, surprisingly, has a good time. 

 

He leaves the restaurant with James’ number written cleanly on a napkin. Eduardo knows he should feel a bit like he’s selling himself out but it doesn’t feel like that all.

 

*

“How was it?” Mark, who apparently has been waiting for Eduardo, asks as soon as he steps through the door.

 

“It was good. He’s nice.”

 

Mark gives Eduardo an appraising look. “So he didn’t try anything at all?”

 

“No!”

 

“Huh.”

 

Mark is soon returning his attention to his laptop. _Again_.

 

“He gave me his number, though,” Eduardo says before Mark is fully wired in.

 

Mark isn’t really listening when he answers. “You should call him back, then. Good for business.”

 

“Sure.”

 

*

 

Eduardo doesn’t call James until two weeks later when he’s flustered after Christy sets on fire the scarf he got for her. Who the fuck does that!

 

“A psycho,” Mark answers when Eduardo tells him.

 

But that isn’t what has Eduardo flustered. It’s what happens next what bothers him the most. Christy calls in, two days later, to talk, which is to say, to yell and blame everything on Eduardo. Eduardo has no idea she’s in the house until he hears the yelling downstairs.

 

“I’m not here to talk to you!” Christy shrieks at the top of her lungs.

 

“I don’t care.” Comes Mark’s raised voice. “You need to leave.”

 

“Let Eduardo himself tell me that.”

 

“No, you set a scarf on fire. You’re lucky no one called the police on you. Eduardo doesn’t need you.”

 

“ _What_? Who are you to talk to me like this?”

 

“A perfectly unbiased party who can see what a crazy bitch you are.”

 

“Mark!” Eduardo interjects as he walks into the living room.

 

At the sound of his voice, Christy turns around to face him. “Eduardo, will you please tell _him_ ,” she says, pointing at Mark. “That I have every right to be here?”

 

“Let’s take this, outside, okay? There are other people living here,” Eduardo suggests, walking up to her. 

 

Shooting a glare at Mark, Eduardo steps out with Christy. She yells some more. About how Eduardo basically kicked her out and how she’s not having any of it. She yells about the stupid scarf and Eduardo not knowing her well enough to realize she doesn’t wear scarves.  

 

By the time they finally break up and Christy walks down the street stomping her feet, Eduardo is sure the whole block has heard about it.

 

* 

 

Eduardo calls James that afternoon. He just… Eduardo needs a change of scenery, is the thing. It’s not like he is leading James on or whatever. 

 

“I thought you had forgotten about me!” James says.

 

“I was sorting some stuff out.”

 

“That sounds serious.” James’ tone changes instantly. 

 

“No, it’s nothing,” Eduardo replies. 

 

What happened isn’t that big of a deal. Plus, it’s insane. Eduardo doesn’t think insanity is good for Facebook. 

 

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” James presses on. 

 

Eduardo can tell he’s listening, actually listening to what he has to say. It… confuses Eduardo. Mostly. But it is also kind of intoxicating to have someone actually listen to what he has to say.

 

“It’s just… I had a girlfriend,” he starts. He doesn’t know how to continue, though. ‘ _She nearly burnt down the house I live in when she tried to get rid of the gift I gave her’_? It doesn’t matter how Eduardo puts it, it will all sound crazy. Perhaps the main reason for that is that it _was_ crazy. He sighs into the receiver. “But then she burnt the scarf I got her,” Eduardo continues awkwardly and when James doesn’t talk, he keeps going. “It was a really nice scarf! I don’t think there was anything wrong with it. Except that she doesn’t wear scarves. It wasn’t like I didn’t know. I just… I really thought she’d like it! She didn’t so she burnt it and left it _there_. I thought the house was going to to burn down, in all honesty. But, it didn’t and she came back today only to be yelled at by Mark, and I think our whole neighborhood might know about it.”

 

“That is…” James sounds like he’s trying to find a nice way to tell Eduardo his life is fucked up. Except he laughs a lot on the other end of the line. “Forgive me, Eduardo, that is batshit crazy.”

 

It is. 

 

“Tell me about it.”

 

James laughs some more before he speaks again. “Okay, I have a meeting in five so how about we meet this weekend for coffee and then I get to hear all about the crazy people you surround yourself with.”

 

He wants to meet to hear about Eduardo’s life. There’s a voice that sounds distinctively like Mark’s in Eduardo’s head that tells him it’s just a ploy to get in Eduardo’s pants. Then that means Eduardo is being courted. And the weirdest thing of all this is that Eduardo finds out he doesn’t mind it so much.  

 

“Uh, yeah. Cool.”

 

“I’ll send you a car, then. And please, please don’t reject it this time. It’s just a car,” James insists.

 

“I know it’s just a car.”

 

“It’s settled, then. Be ready at six!” And with that, James hangs up.

 

*

 

“So wait, she _literally_ set the the scarf on fire. As in, actual, might-burn-my-house-down fire?” James asks over dinner.

 

Because coffee apparently means dinner in his book. The place is even more expensive than the last one. Eduardo is, for the first time in his life, ridiculously glad his father forced him to dress like a business man since his sixteenth birthday. 

 

“She did.”

 

“Because she doesn’t use scarves and you ought to have known that?”

 

“Apparently.”

 

“Couldn’t she just have, oh, I don’t know, thrown it in your face like any normal person would have?”

 

Eduardo actually snorts at this. James is fun. 

 

“I think she really likes theatrics.”

 

“Wow.”

 

“I know.”

 

“And Mark _Zuckerberg_ told her to piss off?” James asks again because that is, perhaps, weirder than Christy nearly burning down his house. 

 

“That might actually be the craziest part.”

 

Smiling, James gives Eduardo an appreciative look. He licks his lips before speaking. 

 

“Wanna know what I think?”

 

“Okay.”

 

“I think we should get _smashed_ if we want to continue this conversation.”

 

“It’s barely seven,” Eduardo replies, feeling like a child because, well, just because.

 

“And there’s an amazing bar around the corner. Come on! Have some fun with me?” James asks in this totally charming and smooth way that has Eduardo mentally frozen. He’s usually the one doing the dazzling. He’s not used to this. Used to people trying very openly to go out of their way to be with him. “I promise not to burn your coat in the bathroom if you order cheap beer.” 

 

Yeah, James pretty much has him at that.

 

*

 

“You know, from this angle, your eyes are reeaaally black,” Eduardo says, his breath practically on James’ _face_. Huh, James’ face is so _pretty_. 

 

And Eduardo is so, so very drunk.

 

“I can assure, Eduardo, my eye are always this black.”

 

“No way! Nah, nah,” Eduardo goes on, tilting his head, trying to switch angles. “They are, like, darker than black. You should see them.”

 

James is smirking. Or at least that’s what it looks like. Eduardo can’t be sure. He’s kinda dizzy. 

 

“Have you got a mirror with you, then?” James asks.

 

“I’m not a girl,” Eduardo spats. This is confusing. James is confusing. James is from another planet. “You can’t _woo_ me.”

 

“I know you’re not a girl and I _can_ woo you. I can be your knight in shining armor if I want to. If _you_ want me to.”

 

Well, there’s a thought Eduardo hadn’t considered. Perhaps being drunk is clouding his judgement. But only like, a teeny-weeny bit.  

 

“You’re sooooooo nice,” Eduardo admits  after a while because it should be illegal to be this nice. 

 

Being James Coulom should be constitutionally forbidden. Except then Eduardo wouldn’t be able to have James. And he’s starting to really, really like him. 

 

“So are you,” James replies, all bright smiles and, Eduardo realizes with some considerable amount of surprise, _hotness_. 

 

Wow, James is hot. Seriously. Hot, hot, hot. Does this mean Eduardo can fuck him? Or is it the other way around? Like, James fucking Eduardo? Should Eduardo make a move? Wait, is that not allowed when you’re being wooed? 

 

Eduardo licks his lips in what he hopes is an entirely alluring and sexy way. “You smell nice.” His voice is husky and low. 

 

He’s waiting for James to reach over the table and maybe grab a handful of Eduardo’s collar and kiss him full on the lips with that luscious, luscious mouth of his. Instead, James just lets out a small laugh, saying something under his breath. And not even that  gesture manages to look mean on him. It looks like he’s amused. Like Eduardo amuses him. It could be worse, Eduardo decides. 

 

“I smell like brandy as do you,” James says, taking Eduardo’s glass away from him. “I think it’s time to get you home.”

 

Not once does James roll his eyes at Eduardo or mutter something about Eduardo being annoying. He just smiles happily like he is genuinely having a good time. Like it isn’t a chagrin to take care of Eduardo. 

 

It kind of reminds Eduardo of the way he takes care of Mark. Except he isn’t into Mark. But then, Eduardo doesn’t think James would put up with him if he didn’t want Eduardo. But Eduardo is totally not into Mark. It’s completely different. Except, James is sort of doing for Eduardo everything Eduardo does (or used to do because Mark is currently almost always unavailable) for Mark. Huh. So maybe Eduardo likes Mark? Is he having an epiphany while drunk? Does he really like Mark?

 

*

 

Chris is out buying them some groceries while Eduardo and Dustin are having breakfast in the kitchen. Everything is quite normal except for the fact that Dustin keeps giving Eduardo these odd stares. 

 

Okay, so Eduardo came in late last night. Or early this morning. Whatever. He’s allowed to do what he likes. He’s paying for this house.

 

Just as Eduardo is about to tell Dustin to stop it, Mark comes in, wearing only his pajama bottoms and _shit, shit, shit_. Eduardo can’t look at him without remembering his epiphany. He can’t see Mark’s face without going ‘ _Shit, shit, shit, I think I like Mark. Holy fuck_ ’ in his own head. It’s pathetic. Eduardo is pathetic. How can he even like Mark? That’s like, having a crush on a wall or something. It’s never gonna like you back, no matter how hard you try. 

 

It sucks. And his head is killing him. And Dustin and the stares. Why, why oh, why did Eduardo had to think that last night? 

 

“Morning,” Dustin greets Mark cheerfully.

 

Mumbling something under his breath, Mark walks to the fridge, leaning in to grab some juice. And then Mark’s ass is pretty much on Eduardo’s face. Jesus Christ. Mark’s ass. Oh, God. 

 

“Wardo?” Mark asks, frowning. 

 

Eduardo forces himself to look up at Mark which is naturally a mistake. Essentially because Mark is standing against the sunlight and Eduardo can feel his head splitting in two. Blinking and squinting, Eduardo tries massaging his temples in what must look like he’s just gone completely insane. Great. Fantastic, really. 

 

“Worry not, my dear Mark,“ Dustin interjects from somewhere in the kitchen. Oh, God, Eduardo can’t even see where Dustin is. He’s going blind. Also, he is never drinking again. “Eduardo is just recovering from all that fun he had last night.”

 

“What?” Mark sounds confused.

 

Of course he didn’t notice Eduardo was late. Of course. 

 

A wall. It’s a like a crush on a fucking wall. 

 

“Eduardo was out,” Dustin explains. “With _James_.” 

 

The glass in Mark’s hand slips from his grip, crashing in the sink along with a pile of dirty dishes.

 

“Don’t do that,” Eduardo whines, closing his eyes. 

 

“What?” Mark asks, turning to face Eduardo.

 

“ _Noise_ ,” Dustin replies, snickering at the glares Eduardo promptly shoots at him. “I told you, Mark. Our boy’s hungover! Did you have a good time with Jaaaameeeees?”

 

“Dustin, _shut up_ ,” Eduardo mutters. 

 

“Oh, Eduardo!” Dustin exclaims like he’s dying from the cuteness. “Is that a blush I’m seeing on your face?” Dusting goes on asking, a hand placed on his chest. “Did James take good care of you and your cherry last night?”

 

Eduardo can feel his eyes nearly popping out in utter horror.

 

“I didn’t sleep with him!”

 

“I’m your friend. It wounds me that you cannot talk to me about these things!”

 

Rolling his eyes, Eduardo has to make an actual effort not to get up and strangle Dustin. 

 

“I swear to God, Dustin, if you don’t shut up right now, I will kill you,” Eduardo is saying when he notices Mark fidgeting where he’s standing. 

 

If Eduardo didn’t know any better, he’d say Mark is worried. Wait, he doesn’t really believe Eduardo slept with James, does he? Because he totally didn’t. Not that Mark would mind. Eduardo doesn’t think Mark would mind. He barely notices Eduardo. Yeah. Eduardo is totally imagining things. 

 

Still… Mark is weird. Mark is acting weird for Mark. And that is saying an awful lot.

 

Eduardo finds himself locking eyes with Mark like they’re trying to have a nonverbal conversation. It’s clearly not working out.  

 

“Geez, you’d think getting laid would make you nicer,” Dustin complains but adds as an afterthought, “Oh, no, wait, that’s actually Mark’s case.”

 

Mark’s head snaps to glare at Dustin.

 

“Dustin, don’t you have something to code?” Mark demands.

 

“No, I just—“

 

“I think you do.”

 

“No, really. I did finish the—“

 

“Then I think Chris needs to talk to you or something,” Mark cuts him off, exasperatedly. 

 

“Oh, I get it. You want to make sure Eduardo isn’t hurt or anything after last night. Mark! I don’t think people give you enough credit!”

 

“ _Dustin_ ,” both Mark and Eduardo cry in unison. 

 

“I’m going, I’m going.”

 

Once they’re alone in the kitchen, neither of them is able to speak up. After what feels like a lifetime and a half, Eduardo starts getting because he needs to take a shower.  

 

“So, you spent the night with him?” Mark breaks the long silence as he stands between Eduardo and the door.

 

Eduardo can tell Mark is nervous. Is he like actually, actually worried? 

 

“Nothing happened,” Eduardo answers.

 

“Did you talk about Facebook?”

 

 _“What_?”

 

“I asked you if you talked about Facebook.”

 

 _Facebook_ , fucking _Facebook_. That’s what’s got Mark all wound up. Fucking Facebook! 

 

“I didn’t put your fucking company in jeopardy, Mark, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Eduardo replies, pushing past Mark.

 

“You were drunk.”

 

Clenching his jaw, Eduardo can feel rage pulsing through his veins. “I…” he starts, trying to find the right words to convey just how angry he is. He hates Mark and his stupid site. “I don’t need to ask for your fucking permission or anything. It’s my life,” he finally counters, staring down at Mark.

 

Eduardo can feel Mark’s eyes on his back as he walks past him.

 

God, he needs a shower. 

 

*

 

The rest of the day goes like this. 

 

Eduardo takes a shower and maybe hits the tiles more than once in utter frustration at Mark and his selfishness. Perhaps Eduardo curses in Portuguese, wondering why on earth he puts himself through this. Why he puts up with Mark and all his shit. Then maybe Eduardo stops to really think about his latest epiphany. It makes a lot of sense. He is not a masochist but he might be into Mark. Eduardo might really, really like him for good. Eduardo maybe spends so much time under the running water, it actually starts coming out cold. And then, perhaps, Eduardo sits on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands, thinking about Mark and all these ridiculous feelings he may or may not be having. 

 

Eduardo isn’t sure, but he maybe falls asleep at some point. He thinks he dreams about Mark’s hands running down his own spine, spidery and nervous. He maybe dreams about kissing Mark. 

 

Eduardo isn’t really sure. 

 

The day is kind of hazy. 

 

*

 

It’s already Monday when James calls him. 

 

“Eduardo!”

 

“You’re calling me,” Eduardo states, pacing into the living room where Mark and Sean are talking.

 

He wouldn’t have walked in if he’d known this. Eduardo has a crazy moment where he remembers that map in the Harry Potter books and he wishes he could somehow have something like that. Harry Potter is incredibly lucky. 

 

And Eduardo is incredibly lame for thinking about Harry Potter. What is he, a seven year-old?

 

But Mark and Sean are stopping whatever they’re discussing quietly as soon as they notice Eduardo. Which is even worse. 

 

“Of course I am,” James is saying in his ear as Sean stands up to pat Eduardo’s back. He’s mouthing ‘ _great job_ ’, giving Eduardo two thumbs up as Mark keeps a perfectly blank face. They have sort of been ignoring each other. He is very close to touching Mark.  To get him to notice Eduardo. But James is talking again. “You called me last time. I figured it’d be good to return the favor.”

 

Why can’t Mark be more like this? Why does everything have to be so hard? Why does Mark never care?

 

“Eduardo?” James asks, and Eduardo realizes he’s been caught up in Mark and has been ignoring James on the phone.

 

“I’m here,” he answers, turning on his heels to walk outside.

 

Eduardo doesn’t miss Mark biting his lip or Sean’s ‘ _It’s fine, see?_ ’ 

 

As he walks out, Eduardo realizes he is actually really glad to have James on the phone. He’s glad there’s someone there for him.  

 

“I have an idea. Why don’t you come to my place? I’ll order some expensive takeout and pretend I cooked it all for you just so you can be ridiculously impressed by all my prowess.”

 

Eduardo agrees easily. 

 

*

 

James’ place turns out to be a humungous penthouse with floor to ceiling windows and a spectacular view of the city. The living room alone is probably half the size of their condo. Jesus Christ. 

 

“What do you think?” James asks, standing behind Eduardo.

 

“It’s… You live here _alone_?”

 

“Yeah, it’s just me and my harem.”

 

And Eduardo just _has_ to turn around and glare at him. 

 

“ _Funny_ ,” he says.

 

“I am absolutely hilarious, I know,” James deadpans in this way that is so like Mark Eduardo can’t help himself. 

 

His imagination spirals out of control within ten seconds and out of nowhere, James becomes Mark. All Eduardo can do is imagine Mark living in some similar place and maybe having a harem (though Eduardo is sure that’d be Sean’s idea). His mind goes Mark, Mark, Mark but he’s with _James_. And James nice. He is so stupidly nice. James, who knows just how to get Eduardo relaxed and talking because he really listensand cares. 

 

“I’m hungry. Are you hungry?” 

 

“Uh, sure,” Eduardo answers lamely, blinking away a vision of Mark sprawled on James’ couch. 

 

James leads Eduardo to a round table where the places are already set. He even pulls out a chair for Eduardo, making him feel too young. Eduardo’s stomach twists and, God, he can’t remember ever being this nervous. Because he is at James’ place. And maybe that means something is going to happen. Except Eduardo isn’t sure he wants this. Yes, James is nice. Yes, Eduardo hasn’t felt this _appreciated_ like, ever, which is a sad thought, come to think about it. Yet, Eduardo isn’t sure he _wants_ James. He likes the thought of James and the way it is all about them and nothing else when they are together. Okay, it’s also about Facebook but that is mostly Eduardo’s fault. 

 

Sometimes Eduardo thinks James would give them the money if Eduardo flat out asked him to. Eduard won’t do that, though. It is not right. Stuff has to be earned, you know? Like, you have to work for them otherwise it’s just bad karma or whatever. Plus, Eduardo doesn’t want James to think this is all about the money. Even if it is. Even if it was. Was. Eduardo really likes spending time with James now. He may even like it a little too much. 

 

“Eduardo?” 

 

Looking up, Eduardo sees James face staring back at him, holding two plates. 

 

“Oh, here let me help you,” Eduardo is saying as he scrambles out of his chair to help James.

 

“No, just sit down. I’ll bring back everything. You just… seemed lost in your thoughts.”

 

And with that, James leaves a plate in front of Eduardo and the other one across the table. He disappears once more and when he comes back, he has a bowl of pasta in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. Leaving everything on the table, James goes back to bring out meat balls and bread sticks and the whole thing is very much like _Lady and the Tramp_. 

 

Eduardo can’t help laughing. He tries really hard to stop, he really does. It isn’t polite. But he can’t help it. It’s so funny and ridiculous. Naturally, by the time James sits down, Eduardo is practically doubling over with laughter. 

 

“At least you’ve stopped looking like someone might drop dead,” James comments, serving Eduardo. 

 

“Sorry,” Eduardo apologizes, snickering a bit. “It’s just… This is all very Disney from you,” he says, breaking into a huge grin because James actually thought about this. It’s like being fifteen all over again and not giving a shit about how ridiculous or cheesy things are. It’s relaxed and fun and Eduardo is so glad he said yes. 

 

“I thought your inner Bambi would appreciate that.”

 

James is grinning, too. He smiles wide and open like Eduardo has never seen him. It makes Eduardo’s heart skip a beat. 

 

James opens the bottle of wine, pouring some for Eduardo first. They toast to life. Really, that’s their toast. Eduardo thinks James might have wanted to toast to them but there isn’t really a _them_. Eduardo notices, not for the first time, James taking things slow. Never pushing too far. 

 

They eat, Eduardo talking about Harvard and Facebook (he can’t stop talking about Facebook, he _has_ to talk about Facebook) and James listening, asking all the right questions and laughing and teasing Eduardo about being punched by the Phoenix. James talks about his own time in college. He went to Yale but the East Coast has always been too cold for him. He moved back a few years later. Started up his own business. Eduardo tells James about making ‘some money in oil features’. He doesn’t mean to brag but then James asks all these questions, and Eduardo ends up saying ‘three hundred grand’ to which James stops eating and drinking to stare at Eduardo. For long enough that Eduardo starts feeling self-conscious, and maybe he shouldn’t have said that.

 

“ _Seriously_?” James finally asks.

 

“Uh, yeah. You know, it’s not really a big deal.” Eduardo starts fidgeting with his napkin. “So, uh, like, where’s your family from?”   

 

James laughs a bit hysterically and this is so not good. 

 

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. 

 

“You can’t just follow something like ‘I made three hundred thousand dollars watching the weather news’ with a question about my family!” James exclaimes. “Eduardo, do you even realize how amazing you are at all the stuff you do? I swear, sometimes it’s like you don’t even know about all this potential you’ve got. My family’s from Napa County, by the way.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah. _Oh_.”

 

Dinner is awkward after that. Eduardo tries relaxing but he can’t because James is eyeing him with this intense glint that Eduardo would call predatory but he doesn’t want to do that. Even when James is talking about his family and growing up; even when he is talking about his sister and how much Eduardo would like her because she is so, so sweet, James still has that glint. Eduardo really needs to pull himself together. 

 

After they finish eating, James drags Eduardo to his couch where there’s more uncomfortable silence until James apparently gets tired to of it. 

 

“Hey, hey, don’t worry. I’m not gonna jump you,” he’s saying, looking straight into Eduardo’s eyes. “But I am really into you, Eduardo,” he continues while Eduardo feels his face starting to heat up. “I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, really. I want to ask you out this Friday. Let’s go out on a real date. One we both know is a date. No business, no Facebook. Just you and me. And food. Or a movie. Maybe both? I don’t know, whatever you want.” James pauses, waiting for Eduardo’s answer. Eduardo doesn’t know what to say. He’s pretty sure the blood in his brain is being drained to go to his face. “I want to date you for real,” James says after a while. “I want to pick you up and drop you off and maybe kiss you on your front door and act like an 80’s romantic comedy, hand-holding included.”

 

Eduardo blinks at this. “Wow.”

 

“Too much?”

 

“No, no, it’s… I wasn’t expecting a whole speech on this.”

 

“I’ve been practicing.”

 

“Really?”

 

James snorts. “No, not really.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“You do that a lot.”

 

“What?”

 

“‘ _Oh_ ’”

 

“Sorry?”

 

“Don’t apologize. So?”

 

Eduardo’s heart pounds in his chest. He’s honestly beyond flattered. He tries looking for the right words but they simply don’t exist. How can James even be real? Moreover, how can he want Eduardo so much? It makes Eduardo incoherent and warm. It makes Eduardo realize that he wants to give it a try.

 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m definitely into more than just a goodnight kiss,” Eduardo starts saying carefully. James face sort of lights up and Eduardo’s blood races under his skin. He swallows. “And please, please, no hand-holding. I already feel like a teenager. If I start acting like one, I will definitely lose my mind.”

 

They’re grinning at each other. It’s ridiculous. Being with James is ridiculous. But it is also warm and nice and easy. Just. So fucking easy.

 

“Can I kiss you, then?” James asks.

 

Instead of answering, Eduardo moves closer to James, his hand ending on the back of James’ neck as he pulls closer, pressing their lips together. 

 

* 

 

Eduardo doesn’t feel like he’s living in an 80’s movie but dating James is probably as close as he will ever get. Because James is from another galaxy so he has to do all these things for Eduardo like open his door and pull out his chair and kiss him long and lingering but oh, so gently. It’s Eduardo who presses with urgency when they’re alone only to have James laughing into their make-out sessions on James’ couch. They trade expensive dinners for movies where James puts his arm around Eduardo’s back while Eduardo is trying very hard to concentrate on the movie and not on the way James smells or how comfortable this particular position is. 

 

They date slow and steady for three weeks. And then one day, on James’ couch, Eduardo somehow ends up sliding all the way down so that he is lying right below James. There’s this tiny moment where Eduardo thinks James might stand up but then his lips are back on Eduardo’s mouth, pressing and wet as James’ body weight comes to rest on top of him. It starts slow, with their legs tangling and James’ hand on Eduardo’s hip. 

 

They set a pace together, a rhythm of sorts where Eduardo snakes his hand inside James’ shirt, enjoying the warmth of his lower back. Eduardo tries to find the perfect angle for his own body which gets him wriggling and pressing up into James only to notice James is _hard_. Now, if he were really a teenage girl, Eduardo would start freaking out, laughing nervously. But he is not. Instead, what happens is that Eduardo’s heart accelerates and pumps blood that runs to his skin where everything suddenly becomes so  fucking sensitive. 

 

Eduardo presses up into James, grinds their hips together forcefully as he scratches James’ lower back and when his breathing becomes more erratic and his touches more frantic, James fumbles with the zipper on his trousers. 

 

Eduardo doesn’t see stars and the world isn’t a better place when he comes but it’s pretty damn close. 

 

*

 

He spends a lot of his time with James. It isn’t forced. It isn’t exhausting and it doesn’t make him uneasy. 

 

Chris knows about James because he notices Eduardo arriving at odd hours and going out more than before. He also notices the occasional hickey on Eduardo’s neck. He doesn’t say anything because he is Chris and knows better. Eduardo will talk when he is ready.

 

If Dustin knows, he doesn’t say a word, so he isn’t a problem.

 

The same, however, cannot be said for Mark who has been suspiciously cranky lately. Really fucking cranky, snapping at any and every word. Except if it’s Sean doing the talking. Sometimes even if it’s Sean. 

 

Dustin doesn’t mention Eduardo’s recent behavior but he does make sure to note Mark’s bitchiness. 

 

Sean remains Sean. Maybe he’s nicer to Eduardo, maybe he seems pleased. But Eduardo doesn’t give a shit about him so he can’t tell for sure.   

 

And Mark. Well something is clearly off with Mark. 

 

So Eduardo doesn’t think this is a good time to mention he’s dating James. 

 

*

 

It’s never a good time to mention James, apparently. So of course Mark has to find out by mistake. When James and Eduardo are having lunch somewhere close to the condo. Having lunch this close to home was a bad a idea, a really, really bad idea. Which makes Eduardo feel like a cheater or something because it’s like he’s hiding James. Eduardo isn’t cheating. He isn’t. 

 

But Mark isn’t helping Eduardo’s case. Because he walks inside as Eduardo laughs hysterically at the story James is telling. And they are about to pay the check so they can get back to James and make out in his couch like Eduardo has been craving to do since they started lunch. Because people get horny like that. And Eduardo is horny. Absurdly horny for two in the afternoon. 

 

And this is when Mark walks inside. With James making sly jokes about the sort of things he’s going to do to Eduardo, and Eduardo laughing at him, already wanting James so bad.  

 

“Mark,” Eduardo starts when Mark is just staring back and forth between Eduardo and James. 

 

This is going to blow up. Eduardo knows Mark well enough.  

 

“Peter Thiel is giving us an angel investment,” Mark announces, this time, his eyes are fixed on Eduardo. And it is so much worse than what Eduardo was preparing for. It is so much worse because the next thing Mark is doing is spatting out a very annoyed, “So you don’t need _him_ anymore.” 

 

It really is so much worse than anything Eduardo could have imagined. 

 

“ _Mark_!” Eduardo exclaims, already standing up.

 

“What? Come on, Wardo, you can stop pretending.”

 

Eduardo has to sneak a glance at James who fortunately looks more confused than anything else.

 

“Mark, stop it,” Eduardo pleads.

 

He doesn’t want a scene. He doesn’t want James to… He wants James to stay, okay? 

 

“Really, we _do_ have Peter Thiel on board,” Mark insists like this is all that matters. 

 

But it isn’t.

 

Not anymore. 

 

“Okay.” Eduardo’s voice is low, calculated. “Can you please go?”

 

Eduardo this close to dragging Mark out himself. Mark just won’t shut up. He’ll never shut up. Because he is Mark and he can be a real asshole when he wants to. Like now. Like fucking now in front of the one person Eduardo genuinely likes. 

 

“Wardo, _this_.” Mark points at the space between Eduardo and James. “Is over.”

 

“That’s my call, not yours,” Eduardo snaps.  

 

His eyes go back to James, who is doing nothing. Out from sheer shock. _Fuck_. And Mark. Fucking Mark and his big mouth. 

 

“Wardo, what the hell?” Mark’s asking, frowning, a breath away from shouting. “Sean and I had to practically drag you to dinner that first time, remember?” he’s saying out of spite. His words are clearly aimed at James. Sometimes, Eduardo really hates how smart Mark is. For all his lack of regard for social cues, Mark gets people. “Well, now I’m telling you you don’t have to do this anymore.” Mark scoffs, practically sneering at James as he says, “He isn’t worth your time.”

 

Eduardo can’t believe this is all happening in front of James. He can’t believe Mark is ruining this for him. In a rush, Eduardo is dragging Mark outside, mouthing ‘I’m sorry’ to James, who apparently is still too shocked to move. He is going to have to work on that after this. 

 

Now, he has to do damage control for something Mark has done. Jesus Christ. When will Eduardo stop cleaning up after Mark’s mess?  

 

They are soon stumbling out on the street, Mark mumbling words Eduardo doesn’t catch except for his last phrase.

 

“You know.” Mark sounds breathless as they stand in the middle of the street. “With the way he was leaning into you, you could probably file for sexual harassment. I’m doing you a favor.”

 

_Sexual harassment? Really?_

 

“What? Mark, no. It’s not sexual harassment,” Eduardo is quick to reply because Mark has this whole thing all wrong.

 

“Oh, come on, Wardo, he was practically drooling all over you in case you missed it,” Mark points out. “That’s gross. He’s like, ten years older—“

 

“Seven years, actually,” Eduardo corrects him, almost automatically. 

 

Rolling his eyes, Mark shoves his hands inside his hoodie pockets. 

 

“Whatever, he’s old. Really old. I’m telling you, Wardo, I could almost see him undressing you in his mind.”

 

“Mark!”

 

Mark shrugs.

 

Eduardo cannot believe him.

 

“It’s true. And honestly, if you want to sue him for sexual harassment, I’ll totally back you up.”

 

“It’s not sexual harassment!” 

 

“But it _is_ ,” Mark insists stubbornly. 

 

“No, Mark.” Making a pause to stop himself from punching Mark, Eduardo breathes in and out. “It’s not sexual harassment when both parties want it,” he tries to explain.

 

“Wardo. Don’t be naive, of course he wants to have his— wait.” Mark frowns, his racing mind catching up with Eduardo’s words. “Did you just say _you_ want him?”

 

“What if I do?”

 

“But…” Mark’s voice trails off. “He’s _so old_.”

 

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone my age dated someone of his.”

 

“I’m not saying, that, Wardo. Don’t be ridiculous. All I’m saying is he isn’t good enough.”

 

“‘He isn’t good enough?” Eduardo asks, this time angrier than before. He’s gone hot blooded with this whole discussion. Eduardo maybe wants to strangle Mark or something. “And pray tell, who _would be_ good enough for me? Because if memory doesn’t fail, you didn’t like Christy, either,” Eduardo demands, his voice tight. 

 

“She was a psycho. She nearly burnt down our house. I only did you a favor by telling her to get lost.”

 

“Oh, and that’s what you’re doing for me now?” Eduardo presses, completely losing it. “A favor? Wow, Mark, thank you so much for caring about me and what I want even though you never _bothered to ask_!” This time around, it’s Eduardo the one who’s a breath away from yelling at the top of his lungs. 

 

“Wardo.”

 

“No, Mark,” Eduardo says. “James has been _nice_ to me. He hasn’t tried to do anything I don’t want, he listens and he’s there.”  Mark is nothing like James. He’s _nothing_ like James. Eduardo can finally, finally see that. “You,” Eduardo continues. “On the other hand, have been a shitty friend ever since Facebook started.” _Maybe even before_. “So I really don’t think I ought to be taking advise from someone who clearly doesn’t give a fuck.” _I deserve so much better_. “Leave me the fuck alone, Mark.”

 

Mark has the decency of looking hurt and confused but when he opens his mouth, Eduardo walks out on him and back into the restaurant where James is just stepping out.

 

“So,” James starts. “That was, uh, quite something.” 

 

“Sorry about that.”

 

“I saw Zuckerberg leave,” James states, his tone something Eduardo hasn’t heard coming from him before. There’s a hint of anger in there. “I know this whole thing,” James says, pointing at the space between him and Eduardo. “Started as a Facebook thing for _you_.”

 

But before he can continue, Eduardo’s speaking, too. “For _me_? And what was it for you?”

 

“Do I really have to spell every little thing out for you, Eduardo?”

 

“Forgive me, I hadn’t realized I was being such an idiot!” Eduardo yells out of nowhere.

 

He brushes past James because he’s not doing this. He’s not having another fight about something he doesn’t even know. Something he can’t possibly begin to understand. 

 

Trailing behind him, James catches up with Eduardo. “Don’t do that.” 

 

“Do what?”

 

“This!” He exclaims, his hands on Eduardo’s shoulders effectively stalling him. “Walk off when we’re in the middle of something.”

 

“I’m not gonna argue _twice_ on the same fucking street on the same afternoon.”

 

Tilting his head, the expression on James’ face softens as his thumb brushes over Eduardo’s cheek. 

 

“I don’t want to argue,” James admits eventually. 

 

“Then why are you picking up a fucking stupid fight?” Eduardo pleads. “That was Mark, it wasn’t me.”

 

“Yeah, but…”

 

“But what?” Eduardo interrupts James. “We’re different people. We don’t come in a freaking combo. If Mark doesn’t want your money, that’s his problem. It doesn’t mean I have to stop seeing you. I don’t do everything Mark tells me to do.”

 

At this, James gives him this look that isn’t exactly saying he doesn’t believe Eduardo. It’s more like… Well, like he’s trying to examine whether Eduardo is telling the truth or not. 

 

“I don’t,” Eduardo emphasizes.

 

“I know.”

 

“Good.” Walking alongside James. Eduardo adds as an afterthought, “I want a coffee.”

 

“I think you might be developing an addiction to caffeine.”

 

“Would you rather I smoked?”

 

James snorts loudly and it’s okay. Eduardo avoids talking about Mark and Facebook. 

 

It's okay.

 

*

 

Eduardo really, really wants to ignore Mark. But they do live in the same house. A house that Eduardo is still paying for despite Thiel’s recent involvement. Eduardo doesn’t resent paying for the house. Money isn’t the problem here. Despite what everyone tries to make things look like. Money isn’t the problem. In fact, Eduardo isn’t all that sure he knows what the problem is. But there is a problem that’s not exactly _just_ about Mark. 

 

Of course there was going to be a problem with Mark. Because sometimes Mark forgets that he isn’t the only one whose life matters. Because sometimes Mark thinks people (Eduardo) want what he wants. And sometimes Mark forgets he is not the only person in people’s (Eduardo’s) lives. It pisses Eduardo off. So things with Mark are awkward, and Eduardo is more than a little bit angry. But he was expecting this.    

 

What Eduardo didn’t anticipate was a problem with James. In all fairness, it’s not a problem per se but it’s not okay either. It’s this tension. This underlying tension where Eduardo feels like he’s been walking on a freaking minefield ever since Mark and his big mouth decided to stage a dramatic production in front of Eduardo and James. The tension is there when Eduardo so much as mentions Facebook and Mark. It is almost palpable in the way James sets his jaw straight and speaks in a controlled voice Eduardo has a hard time figuring out. 

 

The tension is there even when Eduardo isn’t talking about Mark or Facebook. It is there when James calls him, and Eduardo is shopping for some groceries. It is just _there,_ and Eduardo has no idea how to make it go away.

 

It’s there for an entire week. Sitting in between Eduardo and James. Breathing into their conversations. 

 

Sometimes, Eduardo really fucking hates Mark.   

 

*

 

It doesn’t go amiss. Chris tries talking to him but it is Dustin who really gets to Eduardo when he says, “It’s like the situation is completely reversed. Like I just woke up in a whole other universe, you know?”

 

They’re alone by the pool.

 

“A different universe?” Eduardo parrots. “Dustin, do you even listen to the kind of shit you say?”

 

“Dude, it’s so like that!” Dustin exclaims, his face gleaming with his new brilliant idea. An idea that, in Eduardo’s mind is making no sense. “Except I know I didn’t because this shit wouldn’t be happening if Mark hadn’t been an idiot. If he hadn’t pimped you out to this James guy.”

 

“He didn’t pimp me out.”

 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Wardo,” Dustin replies.

 

“Anyway, what’s this thing about reversed situation?”

 

“Are you really trying to tell me you haven’t seen Mark looking murderous every time you mention him?”

 

“I hadn’t noticed.”

 

“Huh,” he says because apparently Eduardo missing this makes even _more_ sense now. Sometimes Eduardo doesn’t know why he even bothers. “Just as well,” Dustin adds with a shrug.

 

“What are you going on about?”

 

“You know how you hate Sean’s guts?” Dustin asks to which Eduardo can only nod. “How sometimes you want to strangle him or feed him to the sharks? Well, Mark’s kinda the same with James.”

 

“Forgive me, Dustin, but I don’t think I go around insulting people without even talking to them in the middle of restaurants just because I fucking feel like it.”

 

“Yeah, you don’t. Because you’re polite or whatever. Look, all I’m saying is that Mark hates James the same way you hate Sean. Now, I don’t know why you hate Sean—“

 

“Because he’s a paranoid asshole who’s—“ 

 

“And I don’t know why Mark hates James. But, from where I’m standing, I think you could sympathize with Mark more than you think.”

 

“That’s bullshit, Dustin,” Eduardo retorts. “James is _nothing_ like Sean.”

 

“Yeah. But hey, I don’t know what you see in him and I _do_ understand what Mark gets from Sean.”

 

“Well, I don’t.”

 

“Just like Mark doesn’t get you and James. Come on, Wardo, can’t you at least try?” Dustin asks.

 

“No.”

 

So of course all Eduardo can do after that is think about Mark and Sean and James all in the same thought. It’s confusing but mostly, it’s unsettling. 

 

*

 

“So there’s a charity thing in a couple of days,” James greets Eduardo over the phone.

 

“Hello to you, too,” Eduardo teases. 

 

James laughs a little into the receiver. “It’s the Darfur charity, and I was going to ask you to come with me,” he says conversationally, like he just invited Eduardo to a have a sandwich with him. “I do get a plus one.”

 

“Wait, is this your version of taking me to prom?” Eduardo asks, attempting to sound deeply disturbed and failing miserably with his half-aborted chuckles. “I feel like I’m increasingly falling into a teenage parallel universe.”

 

James doesn’t even wait for Eduardo to finish speaking when he’s laughing out loud. 

 

“Is that a bad thing? Don’t they always get their happy endings with the hot guy they’ve been pinning over?” he asks.

 

“Glad to know you think so highly of yourself.”

 

“I could just as well be thinking of myself in the role of the geek getting his geeky date.”

 

“And now you’re calling me a geek,” Eduardo observes. “Not cool, James. Not cool.”

 

“I can never win with you, can I?”

 

“What can I say?” Eduardo takes a moment to sigh deeply. “I’m a hard man to please.”

 

“I’d say. So, are you my plus one?”

 

“Only if we get to wear matching tuxedos and you bring me a boutonniere.”

 

“I think it’s too late for the tux thing. But the boutonniere… What’s your color?”

 

Eduardo considers this. 

 

“Blue. Dark blue. None of that pastel shit people get for babies.”

 

“Aren’t we demanding?” James jokes. 

 

“And don’t forget the limo,” Eduardo reminds him like this is the real thing. Like they’re actually in high school and going to prom. “What’s a prom if you don’t get a limo?”

 

“Nothing, of course.”

 

“Glad we agree.”

 

“I’ll pick you up at six thirty, then.”

 

“I’ll be waiting.”

 

*

 

Two days later, Eduardo finds himself fitting his three-piece, black tux. He’s wearing a white shirt and is currently debating whether to go with the black or the Facebook-blue — yes, Eduardo _owns_ a tie that’s blue as Facebook. In his defense, he owned it before Mark even decided there was going to be a Facebook, so there. He hasn’t buttoned up his vest, trying the ties on when Chris bolts through his door.

 

“Wardo, we’re having a—“ Chris starts but stops upon seeing Eduardo.

 

Frowning, he asks, “What happened?”

 

“Uh… Mark and a tie. Why are you all dressed up?”

 

“I’m not gonna hijack a charity, Chris. James asked me to go.”

 

“As his plus one?”

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Wow, okay. Whatever you do, don’t tell Mark that.”

 

Eduardo is this close to objecting when Mark decides it’s a good moment to step in.

 

“Tell me what?”

 

“Nothing,” Eduardo mutters. 

 

Examining Eduardo up and down, Mark gestures at him. 

 

“Why are you dressed like that?” 

 

“I got invited to the charity a couple of days ago,” Eduardo answers, avoiding James’ name.

 

“By whom?”

 

“James.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Eduardo sees what Chris might have meant because Mark’s face falls before returning to its usual blank state. 

 

“I’ll make sure you don’t cross paths,” Eduardo offers but he doesn’t think Mark’s listening anyway.

 

“Well, now that you’re here, Mark,” Chris says, turning to Eduardo. “We need your help. With Mark’s bow tie. I’m good with regular ties but bow ties are not really my thing and you can imagine how useless Mark and Dustin are in this field.”

 

Eduardo can’t help but laughing a little when he takes a moment to stare at Mark. Certainly, his collar needs fixing and there’s the bow tie hanging around his neck. But—

 

“And Sean?”

 

“He’s back at his place getting ready there,” Mark answers quickly.

 

“Oh, so he _does_ own his own place.”

 

“Come on, man,” Chris interjects before Eduardo can make a snide comment about Sean leeching on Eduardo’s money. 

 

Rolling his eyes, Eduardo steps forward until he can see up close Mark’s face. He doesn’t mean to but Eduardo stares, catching a light blush creep over Mark’s cheeks. If Eduardo hadn’t been trying to ignore Mark so badly lately, if he hadn’t harbored murderous thoughts, he’d think Mark was being incredibly cute. As it is, Eduardo just feels awfully inadequate as he starts fixing Mark’s collar and bowtie. 

 

He’s done in less than two minutes, and Mark’s murmuring an awkward ‘thanks’ and going out, leaving Eduardo to his thoughts on Mark’s pink cheeks.  

 

*

 

At six Sean comes by to leave with Mark.

 

“You cleaned up nicely, Eduardo,” he says. “You’re going, too?” His tone just that note of viciousness that makes Eduardo want to strangle him. 

 

“Yeah. Not with you, though,” he answers, not willing to provide any more information.

 

It’s Mark who surprises everyone by saying, “He’s going with James Coulom.”

 

“So you’re still tapping that?” 

 

Sean is clearly amused by this fact, and Eduardo can feel his cheeks growing hotter by the second. 

 

Fortunately, they leave soon after that.

 

At six thirty, the bell is ringing again.

 

It’s James. James with a freaking dark blue boutonniere and a limo parked outside. 

 

“Pleased?” 

 

There’s a playful grin on James lips as he moves in to press his lips against Eduardo. Taking a step away from Eduardo, James opens the case where the boutonniere and takes it out to place it inside Eduardo’s pocket. 

 

“Ah, now you’re set,” James says. “Blue is definitely your color.”

 

Eduardo is still too shocked to even produce a sound. He’s just staring dumbly at James in a black tux and a blue boutonniere that is identical to Eduardo’s. 

 

“You really went all the way out,” Eduardo finally manages.

 

“I’m taking you to prom, remember?”

 

“I thought we were joking.”

 

“Does this mean I should cancel tonight’s hotel reservation?” James asks, innocently.

 

Eduardo’s jaw drops. 

 

“Wait, isn’t that the tradition?” James pretends to be confused, probably just to amuse Eduardo. “I take you to prom, and then I get to deflower you in a cheap hotel. I thought that was the whole idea!”

 

“Deflower me?” 

 

“Too late for that?”

 

“Yeah,” Eduardo admits. “Several years.”

 

“Ah, well, the hotel isn’t really cheap.” Knowing James, it’s probably as far from cheap as one can get. “So I guess it’s okay if we break a few traditions,” James adds placing a hand over Eduardo’s shoulder as Eduardo locks the door.

 

Walking to the limo, Eduardo asks, “Did you really book a hotel?”

 

James turns to him in one swift motion, his eyes locked with Eduardo’s. 

 

“I did but just for fun. I don’t… I don’t expect anything, though.” James’ tone is serious as he speaks. 

 

“It’d better be good.” When James raises a curious brow at him, Eduardo feels the need to elaborate. “I meant the room but I’m dumping if you’re not good in bed.”

 

They both are still laughing when the get inside the limo.

 

*

 

Eduardo is totally cool with Mark and Sean being in the same room as he and James. Really, totally cool. He is so not having small panic attacks. Not even when Mark decides staring at them is good idea. Nope. Not at all. That Eduardo finds it rather fortunate that their tables are on opposite sides of the room means absolutely nothing.

 

Eduardo tries his best to ignore Mark and James maybe notices something is up but he doesn’t say a thing. Instead, he entertains himself talking business with the people at their table and telling everyone how excellent Eduardo is. How he’s this CFO of this website that, “trust me, man, it’s going to be huge.” It takes the edge off, and Eduardo is soon too engrossed in telling everyone about Facebook.

 

Eventually, someone actually mentions advertising and Eduardo’s fingers twitch.

 

“Haven’t you thought about it?” the man asks. He’s not really that old. In his forties, maybe. “It’s a good way to make easy money, you know.” Eduardo is really just this close to tell this guy that yeah, he fucking knows. Eduardo forces himself to shut his mouth and the guy continues. “It’s what you do, right? I don’t really get this Facebook thing but it’s a website. That’s what you do with websites. Or so I’ve heard,” he adds as an afterthought.

 

At their table, everyone laughs. Eduardo, however, is perfectly still, his blood running cold in his veins. And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Facebook isn’t just a website. Advertisers are easy. Easy and sloppy.

 

“Well, Facebook isn’t really like any other website you’ve seen,” Eduardo replies, not really knowing what he’s saying. “It’s… more than that. It’s a way to connect people. Now, imagine you’re talking on the phone and an ad suddenly pops into your conversation. Wouldn’t you be annoyed?”

 

And really, where is all this coming from?

 

“I guess,” the man answers, confused.

 

“Well, it’s the same thing with Facebook. People won’t want to connect if an ad keeps popping up,” Eduardo finishes, feeling rather accomplished even though he has no idea how he even managed that reasoning.

 

It just happened. It jumped out of him and somehow, the more he thinks about it, the more sense it makes. Eduardo can’t believe he ever tried to push advertising. He thinks people around him keep talking but all Eduardo can do is search for Mark. He wants to walk to his table and tell him, he understands. He finally gets it and Eduardo is practically beaming with happiness. He is all but standing up when James arm comes to rest on Eduardo’s chair.

 

“He is rather impressive, Coloum,” the same man says.

 

James grins stupidly wide at Eduardo.

 

Eduardo’s stomach sort of sinks in guilt. He can’t place where the sentiment is coming. But it’s there. It makes Eduardo remain at his seat through the whole dinner.  

 

“Hey,” James purrs in Eduardo’s ear before dessert is brought out. The gesture makes him nearly jump out of his skin.  “Let’s go get some air.” James doesn’t wait for Eduardo to answer, taking his hand and dragging him away from the party.

 

They stumble outside, and James pins Eduardo up against a wall far enough from the main room. He ravishes Eduardo’s mouth until it’s sore and sensitive.

 

“You have no idea how hot you like when you’re that invested,” James groans, grinding their hips together.

 

It’s all very public, and Eduardo is ridiculously horny right now. He blushes at James predatory stare. James’ eyes are dark as he glances up and down the hall.

 

“I know a bathroom,” James says, breathlessly.

 

“How romantic.”

 

“I try my best.”

 

There’s a smirk playing on James lips that Eduardo can’t resist so he kisses him again. “Let’s go.”

 

Walking down the hall, Eduardo feels chills run down his spine not really believing he’s going to do this. He remembers the bathroom and Christy and her friend and Mark. It’s the wrong memory to bring to mind. He’s impossibly horny now. Fuck.

 

On their way, Eduardo thinks they pass by Sean but he is too gone to notice. He is too distracted by James’ mouth to give a shit.

 

They barely manage to get inside a lonely bathroom that’s dimly lit when they’re already on top of each other. James is sucking a bruise where Eduardo’s neck meets his collarbone as his fingers tremble with excitement on their way down Eduardo’s shirt. Eduardo himself is struggling with James’ zipper.

 

“Fuck,” James moans into Eduardo’s skin. “I’m going to come in my pants.” There’s a laugh somewhere in between his breathy words.

 

Prying apart Eduardo’s thighs, James places himself in between them, cupping Eduardo through his pants. He’s going to come, Eduardo swears to god. They’re grinding their hips, rough and raw and fast. It’s primal, like a need that pulses through Eduardo’s veins and he can’t get enough of James’ skin on his. He moans loudly, James encouraging him, whispering in his ears.

 

He is honestly going to come like this. Oh, fuck. He thinks so. But then James is pulling lightly on Eduardo’s hair, exposing his neck, biting down where Eduardo’s heartbeat is racing madly just before his fingers wriggle inside Eduardo’s trousers.

 

“Oh, shit,” Eduardo all but screams, and James has to kiss him to smother Eduardo’s moans.

 

And because Eduardo’s life hates him, the door swings open right at that instant before Eduardo comes. Mark stands by the doorframe, his face unreadable.  

 

He stands blinking at them as though he’s trying to decide if this is real or not. 

 

Eduardo wants to die of mortification.

 

Mark probably wants to murder James with his own hands (Eduardo knows this type of unreadable face - _murder_ ).

 

James stills for a second before he begins sucking another bruise on Eduardo’s skin. 

 

Eduardo really, _really_ wants him to stop (except he kind of doesn’t).

 

Mark is standing there. He stands there until Eduardo’s breath hitches (involuntarily) under James mouth. He slams the door shut.

 

Eduardo is fucking petrified. There is not a single muscle in his body that’s willing to move but James is not stopping. His hands are all over Eduardo, who is still hard for whatever reason. 

 

Eduardo has to go and talk to Mark. 

 

This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

 

But James’ hands are relentless.

 

And Eduardo is so very scared.

 

James’ body is pressing up against his. 

 

James’ moans are on Eduardo’s ears.

 

And Eduardo doesn’t know what he wants anymore.

 

And James pace is faster, faster.

 

And Eduardo’s heart beats louder and louder.

 

And James keeps whispering his name.

 

And Eduardo has to bite down on his tongue.

 

And Mark’s face is all he sees.

 

And Mark’s name is on Eduardo’s tongue.

 

And Mark’s hands are touching him in his mind.

 

And the memory of Mark saying his name, of Mark saying _Wardo_ , it’s the memory that gets him off.

 

And Eduardo goes limp.

 

And James is still breathing on top of him. 

 

*

 

When they go back inside, Sean is carrying a whole bottle of vodka and smirking at Eduardo. He has never wanted to kill anyone this badly. However, before Eduardo can do anything stupid and flashy and completely unnecessary, James is cutting in front of him, fixing Eduardo’s collar.

 

“There,” he says tapping on Eduardo’s shoulder. “I want dessert _._ ” And the ridiculous amount of innuendo James manages to inject into that one sentence might have killed Eduardo if he weren’t so out of it. If he weren’t keeping an eye out for Mark.

 

He feels guilty as soon as James’ eyebrows furrow. Not guilty enough to stop looking for Mark, though. 

 

*

 

The night is almost over, the organizer (Anna or something) already getting ready to give a closing speech. A final thank you. Eduardo is all but twitching in his seat. Mark is nowhere to be seen. The whole room is clapping for her, the woman, the organizer. She stands up, walks forward. She waits for the claps to die down before she clears her throat. 

 

Eduardo’s phone vibrates right as she begins her speech. It’s a text from Mark.  

 

_Meft me outsidd_

 

Eduardo has to take a deep breath. He has to tell himself he has to walk steady but his brain keeps telling him to run. To Mark. Because Mark needs him even if he can never really say those words explicitly.   

 

He takes a glass of wine on his way out only to realize he can’t stomach it.  If people see him leave, no one says a thing.

 

The night air is cold, slapping him on the face as he steps into a yard of sorts. Eduardo finds Mark hunched on a bench. Promptly walking up to him, Eduardo leaves his glass on the bench, staring down at Mark.

 

“I wanted to see if you’d come here,” Mark offers, his syllables sloppy, longer. Mark is drunk. Very drunk. He is also standing up, squaring his shoulders.  

 

Eduardo feels like an idiot because this wasn’t an emergency. Because Mark is only playing with him. 

 

Except Mark is biting down his bottom lip like he is nervous. Except Mark is taking a deep breath and invading Eduardo’s personal space. 

 

And _shit, shit shit_. 

 

And Mark’s lips are on his. And they’re soft. 

 

Mark’s breath smells strongly of vodka.

 

Mark is drunk, and Eduardo’s heart is going to work itself to exhaustion eventually and give him a heart-attack at twenty-one. However, Mark isn’t going anywhere and his lips are parting open and that’s… that’s enough, Eduardo tells himself.

 

“Mark, what the fuck?” Eduardo demands as he pushes away from him.  

 

“Why not?” Mark shoots back. “You clearly have no problems with _him._ ”

 

“Mark, I’m not dating you.”

 

“That’s irrelevant,” Mark argues.

 

Just as Eduardo is about to ask what the hell is Mark thinking, there is a voice calling out Eduardo’s name.

 

It’s James. 

 

“Eduardo? What’s going on?” He’s glaring at Mark. 

 

“This has nothing to do with you,” Mark answers despite the fact that all three of them know James isn’t asking him. 

 

“Back off, Mark,” Eduardo interjects. This can’t end like last time. Eduardo won’t allow that. “Just stop this.”

 

As Mark gapes at him, James is smirking. 

 

“Come on, Wardo. You deserve better,” Mark says, trying to step closer to Eduardo but he keeps moving away.

 

“Mark!” Eduardo exclaims, blushing and _almost_ stumbling down on the bench in his attempt to get away from Mark.

 

“Wardo.”

 

He is effectively trapped between Mark and the bench. They are inches apart, Mark’s hand grabbing a hold of Eduardo’s arm. 

 

“Let go off me.” He doesn’t let go. “Mark, let go,” Eduardo orders, fighting Mark’s grip but it’s strong and certainly not leaving his arm any time soon.

 

“Dude, he said let go,” James interrupts, placing a hand on Mark’s shoulder and pulling him back. 

 

“Yeah, I heard and this is still none of your fucking business,” Mark snaps but he lets go off Eduardo to turn to James. “You wouldn’t even be with him if it weren’t for me,” he spats next. “He’s been using you.”

 

“Mark shut the fuck up!” 

 

“No, I won’t. This is bullshit, Wardo. You should come with me. He’s fucking worthless!”

 

“Stop it, Mark.”

 

“No,” Mark says, still looking at James.

 

“You’re really stubborn, aren’t you, Zuckerberg? Aren’t you listening to Eduardo?” James asks. And then, just when Eduardo thinks this couldn’t get any worse, James is smirking at Mark. “Oh, right,” he’s saying. “I forgot. You never listen.”

 

Mark’s whole body goes rigid at this. He blinks for a second, stares at them both, switching back and forth between Eduardo and James. 

 

“Shut up.” There’s something wrong with Mark’s voice. It breaks a little. It becomes too breathy. “You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. You’re nothing. Eduardo—” Cutting himself short, Mark stares intently at Eduardo. 

 

“Eduardo what, Zuckerberg?”

 

“Eduardo doesn’t give a fuck about you. You’re old and pathetic, trailing behind him because you’re intellectually incapable of relating to people your own age. He, like probably everyone else in your life, only wants you for your money.”

 

And before James can react, before Mark can decide he’s leaving like last time, before either of them make a move, Eduardo is reaching for his glass and throwing it on Mark’s face. 

 

“You’re such an asshole sometimes,” Eduardo breathes out, watching as red wine trickles down Mark’s face staining his shirt. 

 

Eduardo cannot take his eyes off Mark.

 

He can’t.

 

Mark looks lost. Eduardo has never seen him like this. Mark is never like this. 

 

Jesus Christ, what is wrong with them? What the fuck is wrong with them? Eduardo would kill to know the right answer. He just… He just wants to go back. Back to Harvard and to the way things were between him and Mark. 

 

“Come, Eduardo,” James is saying, breaking the deadly silence.

 

Eduardo doesn’t move for a moment. 

 

When he does, it is to take a step towards Mark.

 

“I’m taking him home,” Eduardo announces.

 

“You’re _what?_ ”

 

“He can’t go back inside looking like that,” Eduardo explains. “He’s my friend and I’m taking him home.”

 

Mark remains silent. Eduardo doesn’t know what that is about but he is glad. 

 

“You can call him a cab if you’re so worried!” James exclaims, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation. “You don’t owe him anything.”

 

“I know,” Eduardo sighs. 

 

James’ shoulders slump. Eduardo would say he looks defeated, sad, maybe. He doesn’t know James all that well, though. James’ hands are in his pockets as he walks back inside without another word. 

 

Eduardo wonders if it is over. 

 

“I don’t need your pity, Eduardo,” Mark says once James is out of sight. 

 

“Don’t be stupid, Mark.”

 

“What? You think I need you? Of all the people in this world, you think I’d need _you_? And what for, exactly? I’ve got Peter Thiel’s money and you’re as good at coding as a two-year old.”

 

Eduardo wants to punch Mark. Tell him to go fuck himself and just leave him there, see if anyone cares. But he is too tired to be in another fight. His legs are giving out on him, and, to be honest, Eduardo needs to stop thinking.  

 

He calls them a cab and pushes Mark inside without saying goodbye to anyone at the party. 

 

*

 

Eduardo keeps staring at his phone like it is going to go off any moment now. He has been staring for the pasttwo hours so the gesture is pretty much bordering on pathetic. But he can’t help it, okay? He would call himself, it is not like Eduardo is a coward or anything. It’s not like something happened last night. Well, something other than what James saw. It’s… What is he going to say? ‘ _Sorry I traded you for my douchebag of a friend. He turned out to be totally worthless, as always_ ’? Though Eduardo is sure this would not displease James per se, he wouldn’t mean it. He… Well, fuck, there must be something seriously wrong with him if Eduardo can’t envision himself leaving Mark behind even after Mark was such an asshole.  

 

Whatever. If James wants to never ever see Eduardo again that is… It is not fine. But Eduardo would get it. Plus, summer is almost over, right? Then back to Harvard, and it is not like he is going to have a lot of free time in his hands. Not if Eduardo has something to say about it.

 

Eduardo is totally not missing James. He totally isn’t.

 

And also? He is totally not talking to Mark. He deserves Eduardo not talking to him.

 

Eduardo is fine all alone. Really. Not needy and confused at all. Nope.

 

Everything is fine. Fucking fantastic.

 

If Eduardo goes downstairs to get himself a cup of coffee and ends up nearly beheading Dustin for asking him how his night went, that is just healthy venting, you know? Perfectly healthy and normal behavior.

 

Okay, so it isn’t fine. Sue him. He has aright to be pissed off. The universe is conspiring against him. The universe and its minion Sean fucking Parker. Because Eduardo doesn’t think Mark would willingly draw up a contract with the devil or the universe or whatever. If not because he cares about Eduardo (he won’t admit it, but Eduardo thinks this would totally be the real reason), because he doesn’t want to go through all that trouble. But Sean, Sean would sell his soul to get laid and fuck around with Eduardo.

 

He is sure it was Sean who told Mark in any case. And when Mark saw him and James in, ahem, a rather _compromising_ position (okay, fine, they were fucking), he was just shocked. Maybe he thought Eduardo was, whatever, asexual? But then again, Mark had been there that time with Christy and the whole blow job in a bathroom thingy. Anyway, for whatever reason, Mark lost it and got incredibly drunk (it had never been this bad, not even during the whole Erica debacle), and this, too, is Sean’s fault because no one in their right mind would have given a nineteen year-old a whole bottle of vodka only to see said nineteen year-old down it in its entirety. And then Sean probably gave Mark the ridiculously bad idea to step outside and text Eduardo. Probably.

 

So really, it is all Sean’s fault.

 

Except the part where Mark launched himself at Eduardo. And the part where Eduardo decided he wanted to take Mark home. That was all Mark and all Eduardo. And those, those are the parts that make the least sense.

 

Because Mark is straight, right? And Eduardo has a boyfriend, correct?  

 

*

 

But Eduardo can’t forget it. He can’t forget the way it had felt like he needed to be the one to bring Mark home. He cannot forget the fact that he chose Mark over James or how right that felt. But mainly, what Eduardo can’t forget is the way James was touching him in that bathroom and how all his brain wanted to think about was _Mark, Mark, Mark_. He can’t forget it. He just can’t. 

 

And it makes him snappy. Because this can’t be happening. Not to Eduardo. Not with Mark, of all people. Not when he has someone who actually gives a damn. 

 

Yet it is happening. To Eduardo and with Mark. The itch is there. The itch to stretch his fingers and brush them on Mark’s sleeve. 

 

James hasn’t called.

 

*

 

The funny thing is, the more Eduardo thinks about his new found urges, the more he realizes he wants to do the things he did without thinking before. Like placing his hands on Mark’s shoulders or a hand on Mark’s, a light touch on Mark’s lower back. These are all things he stopped doing when Sean came into the picture. Eduardo didn’t feel right, it… it stopped being his place to be the person Mark went to so these touches, they weren’t right. 

 

Everything just happened so fast that Eduardo never gave them much thought. Because then there was James, and James all over Eduardo, and James whispering dirty to him, and James listening. 

 

*

 

Eduardo calls James almost a week after the charity. They meet for a coffee, to talk, to set things straight. Eduardo goes thinking there will be an argument. He goes prepared to explain himself. Apologize, if it comes to that. 

 

What James has to say, though, is not what Eduardo is expecting. 

 

It isn’t ugly or dramatic. It is James saying he is not up for games (‘ _I’m tired of that bullshit_ ’), and Eduardo replying, almost begging, that he is not playing games. It is a very lame ‘ _we should be friends_ ’, a blow to Eduardo’s chest. 

 

It is James saying Eduardo is ‘ _just a kid_ ’ who needs to figure out what he wants before he stands up to leave Eduardo. Eduardo is not one to beg. He is not one to plead but he really, really likes James. And he can’t stop feeling like he is losing. So Eduardo stands up, striding behind James. 

 

Grabbing him by the elbow, Eduardo finds the strength to force James to turn around. What comes next happens in the blink of an eye.    

 

“I like you, Eduardo,” James says, his expression hardened as he steps away from Eduardo. “But I’m done being someone else’s second.”  

 

Then he is gone. He is walking out the door, leaving Eduardo behind. And that is that. 

 

He can’t believe that just last week they were okay. Eduardo can’t believe how quickly it all went downhill.

 

And Eduardo is not hurt. Not exactly. He doesn’t feel like crying and his world hasn’t ended. 

 

Instead, he feels angry. Really fucking angry. 

 

*

 

Eduardo thinks he can take it, you know. Thinks he can just pretend nothing happened. It is not like any of his friends were particularly enthusiastic about James. Eduardo tells no one. He lets the anger boil inside him until it cools down. He locks himself up until he feels more relaxed, even if he still wants to punch someone. He isn’t completely calm. He is barely making it. How in the world did this happen to him? How did he go from having a very fucking nice boyfriend to having nothing? 

 

He can’t get it. 

 

He can’t.

 

But he won’t tell anyone. He won’t let anyone know because then Mark will know. Eduardo just won’t give him that satisfaction. He refuses to do so. 

 

He needs water. He needs something, anything. 

 

Dustin and Chris are talking in low voices in the kitchen when Eduardo gets there. 

 

“Do you think Mark’s told him?” Eduardo hears Chris’ voice.

 

“Not really,” Dustin replies, his tone equally low. “There’s gonna be a huge blow up when he finds out.”

 

Find out what? What are they talking about? 

 

“Yeah well, school starts in three weeks. Maybe we should tell him.”

 

“You think?”

 

“Dustin, you and Mark are dropping out. Eduardo’s—“

 

“I’m sorry, you’re _what_?” Eduardo interjects, stepping fully into the kitchen.

 

“It’s for Facebook,” Dustin says a little too quickly, like he is trying to avoid confrontation. “Really, Wardo, we need to focus all our energy and Facebook is really taking off right now,” he manages to say in a single breath.

 

Eduardo doesn’t miss the way the both move towards the door, almost blocking Eduardo’s way out. 

 

“And you’re telling me this _three weeks_ _before_ we’re supposed to go back?” Eduardo demands.

 

“In all fairness, I told Chris and Mark was supposed to—“

 

“Dustin!” Chris exclaims, cutting him off.

 

But the damage has been done. It’s Mark’s fault. Because what in Eduardo’s life that has ever gone wrong isn’t at least partly Mark’s fault? It’s absurd. It’s absurd for Mark to have kept this from him. It’s plainly inexcusable. And Eduardo, he feels white-hot rage boiling in his veins. His body tenses up, and he wants to smash something.

 

He loses track of his own actions as he pushes past Chris and Dustin. He maybe hears them somewhere in his mind (“ _Come on, man, I’m sure he just forgot_ ”) but Eduardo can’t hear them. He is deaf and done. He is fucking done making excuses for Mark. He is fucking spent this time around.

 

Eduardo bangs his fist on Mark’s door. 

 

“Mark!” he barks on and on until Mark emerges from the other side, looking like Eduardo just woke him up. 

 

“Wardo, what the hell?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.

 

It grates on Eduardo’s nerves. It fucking irritates him the way Mark can give a rat’s ass about everything that’s not in his direct interest. 

 

“You’re dropping out?” Eduardo demands, striding inside Mark’s room and closing the door behind him.

 

Mark’s eyes widen at this. So he is. It hurts. Inexplicably, it _hurts_. 

 

“How did you find out?” Mark asks back.

 

“How did I— How about _why_ didn’t you tell me!” Eduardo all but yells at the top of his lungs, his chest constricted with an anguish he can’t comprehend.

 

“Because,” Mark starts but doesn’t quite get around to finish.

 

Instead, he shuffles his feet, staring at the floor, the ceiling, at anything he can find that is not Eduardo’s face. 

 

“You’re such an asshole,” Eduardo accuses him, mostly to get Mark to look at him.

 

Mark looks up almost immediately. Eduardo can see he is angry as well. 

 

“And how was I supposed to tell you when you have decided your friends and your company are no longer any of your interest?” Mark shoots back, his face blank, unreadable. 

 

“I have not!” 

 

The pressure inside Eduardo’s chest intensifies. It hurts, as if it is physically painful to be having this argument. 

 

“Oh, but when was the last time you checked how many users we have? Or the last time you even concerned yourself with the bugs and all the other shit everyone else is dealing with? You know, this site doesn’t run itself,” Mark bites quickly, making his whole speech sound like a long run-on sentence that Eduardo has a hard time following. 

 

But it would be useless for Eduardo to start poking around the code. He doesn’t know the first thing about what Mark is doing.  

 

“That’s ridiculous. I handle the finances.”

 

“And yet you haven’t met Thiel, have you? He’s our biggest investor right now. Where have you been?”

 

This time around, Eduardo has to shut up. His stomach sink with the truth of Mark’s words. He can’t deny it. And still, _still_ Eduardo feels like Mark owed him. That Mark owed it to their friendship to at least tell Eduardo he’s dropping out. This simple thought, it wretches him. They weren’t like this. 

 

“I’m dropping out because I care about Facebook,” Mark says eventually, like he’s reading Eduardo’s thoughts.

 

Eduardo doesn’t have to ask what Mark means by that. 

 

“I care about Facebook, too,” Eduardo replies, his tone more quiet. 

 

“Not enough.”

 

“That’s a lie, Mark. I want Facebook to succeed as much as you do. I’m… I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

 

“That’s an understatement,” Mark mutters under his breath.

 

“Well, it hasn’t been all me! You’ve been pushing me aside ever since we moved here!” 

 

“What?” Mark asks, confused. “No, I haven’t.”

 

“Yes, you have!” Eduardo exclaims, heated up all over again. “‘Sean _this_ ’, ‘Sean _that_ ’. I’m not the only one, Mark.”

 

“What are you even talking about? Jesus, you’re so stupid sometimes.”

 

“Wow, thanks a lot, Mark!”

 

“You’re too busy hating Sean to see what’s right in front of you,” Mark explains as if that makes total sense. “ That’s stupid.”

 

Fighting the urge to simply punch him, Eduardo draws in a deep breath before he speaks again. “Stop insulting me, Mark.”

 

Mark shrugs. 

 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

 

“Wrong with me?” Mark parrots. “You’re just…” Mark starts, moving closer and closer to Eduardo’s body. “You’re so fucking frustrating,” he says, pinning Eduardo’s back flat against the door. 

 

Without any warning, Mark pushes against Eduardo, smashing their mouths together in a sloppy kiss. Eduardo’s entire body freezes on the stop but Mark… Mark keeps brushing his lips against Eduardo’s and the gesture is… Well, it’s almost tender, in an awkward Mark-y sort of way, Eduardo supposes. That is not something Eduardo is expecting from Mark. It’s quite the opposite. It’s a sort of intimacy that sends shivers down his spine. And Eduardo doesn’t understand. What this means. It’s different and weird and it’s Mark, for god’s sake. He can’t move. Eduardo doesn’t know what to do. 

 

Yet, before Eduardo can enter into full panic mode, Mark is breaking the kiss and taking a step away from him. There is hesitation in Mark’s eyes. Like he is not sure what exactly just happened. 

 

“I’m not changing my mind,” Mark says in a challenging tone but his eyes, his eyes are telling a different story.

 

Eduardo has no idea what the hell he is supposed to do with all this. 

 

Then, to top it all, Eduardo can’t stop thinking about Mark kissing him. He can’t stop imagining kissing Mark back. 

 

This is all wrong. Eduardo can’t like, like Mark. He can’t and that is the end of it. He just can’t.  

 

*

 

Engaging in what he considers very mature behavior on his part, Eduardo decides he is going to ignore Mark. It is the safest way to go, really. Plus, Eduardo doesn’t feel like dealing with this. Not at all.  

 

So of course fate and Eduardo’s very mature plans don’t get along all that well. Because two days after Mark kisses Eduardo, they run out of food and beer and Red Vines and RedBull, _again_. Now, the problem here is that Chris, Dustin and Eduardo have this thing where they have tried to do chores by turns, all summer long. It doesn’t work that well because Mark is a freaking tyrant or whatever and has Dustin coding more often than not. It’s actually just Chris and Eduardo worrying over all of their well-beings including Sean’s because he spends so much time in the house he is practically living there. _Free_. 

 

Whatever. The point here is that it is Eduardo’s turn to go get groceries so he finds himself asking around if there is anything else he should be buying and, _no, Dustin, if you want condoms, that’s your problem_. He ignores Mark partly because he is wired in, partly because Eduardo already knows what to get him but mostly because his plan of ignoring Mark is going great so far (although this is mostly because Mark is nearly always wired in and almost never noticing Eduardo).  

 

But then Eduardo is ready to go out when Mark is taking off his headphones and walking up to him. 

 

“So, where are we going?” Mark asks like he shops with Eduardo all the time. 

 

Like they haven’t been not talking for the past two days and at odd for the last month.

 

Eduardo gawks. 

 

“Wardo?” 

 

“You were wired in,” Eduardo states, blinking, not able to process Mark’s actions.

 

“Yeah. Now, I’m not.”

 

Eduardo frowns. Maybe Mark thinks he is going elsewhere? “You do know I’m going out to get some food.” 

 

“You mentioned that, yes. I asked where we’re going. This isn’t too hard, Wardo. It’s just shopping.”

 

“Except you don’t shop.”

 

Mark shrugs. “I wanted to try it.”

 

“Mark, you barely eat.” Eduardo stares at Mark, trying to figure out his angle. “What is this about?”

 

“Look, if you don’t want me to come, just say it.”

 

“You’re going to willingly spend some time away from a computer? You really think I’m gonna buy that?”

 

Mark tightens his jaw, his lips forming a thin line. “Fine, I’ll just stay.”

 

Eduardo doesn’t know why he says this, why he forces himself to spend time with Mark when he just gave him a clear exit. There is just something about disappointing Mark Eduardo has never liked. It is one of those things Eduardo is never really able to do.

 

“Do you have anything special in mind?” When Mark raises a brow, Eduardo amends, “To shop.”

 

Then Mark does this thing, this thing Eduardo has not seen him do in who knows how long. He beam _s_. It is gone almost instantly but he _beams,_ and something tugs at Eduardo’s heart.

 

“I’m still me, Wardo,” Mark answers, grinning slightly, anxiously, like that explains everything.

 

It kind of does. 

 

Because Mark is still Mark and Eduardo is still Eduardo. So you cannot really blame Eduardo for getting it now. He stares at Mark’s half-smile, and he can’t help it. Eduardo is leaning down to kiss his best friend, and his best friend is standing on the tip of his toes to meet him halfway. 

 

It just clicks. The feelings inside Eduardo, they make sense. Eduardo gets it now. He can see the big picture now, and it has him and Mark and a weird sounding word dangling above their heads. _Us_. 

 

This summer is ending but it’s not their ending, Eduardo muses. It’s their start.  


End file.
